


A Little Place You Can Call Home

by youzikouwei



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 23:54:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18304085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youzikouwei/pseuds/youzikouwei
Summary: Javi walks into the office far too chipper than a Monday morning warrants.





	A Little Place You Can Call Home

**Author's Note:**

> Look, ma, I’m a writer! *jazz hands* 
> 
> For A again, I GUESS. 
> 
> xoxo hacker-san
> 
> P.S. This is unbetaed. Also, will lock in a few days. It’s for everybody’s good, I swear.

Javi walks into the office far too chipper than a Monday morning warrants. 

“12 o’clock,” Alex messages Maia, whom Javi passes by on the way to his cubicle. He feels excited, can almost hear the James Bond theme song in his head. 

“??????” Maia, who is a failure of a sister, messages back. 

But Alex won’t let that get him down. Historically, Javi and Mondays don’t get along. Never has a Monday gone by without Javi shuffling in to work, lifeline cup of coffee in hand, like he’s headed to the gallows. And yet he’d been humming this morning. This is a case for Alex Shibutani. 

“Mr. Fernandez is looking way too happy this terrible morning,” Alex sends back to Maia. Honestly, he can hear the little thrills of incoming messages from her phone. Maia has a ways to go if she wants to be able to keep at this. 

“So?” is all Alex gets in response. Her lack of interest in the whole thing reads loud and clear in that one-word reply. He sighs deeply. It’s time to take it into his own hands, he decides. 

Until the department head bellows bellows for Alex at a truly alarming volume and he scuttles off to settle that pressing issue instead, his little mission forgotten for the moment. 

 

 

With the office cafeteria shut down for renovations and a lack of other decent options nearby, lunchtime in the office has been a grim affair for the past few weeks. 

Zhenya picks forlornly at the pasta dish she’d bought the day before from the supermarket near her home, resigning herself to yet another unsatisfactory lunch. For what seems like the thousandth time that month, she vows to actually try making something better than microwaved instant food to bring to work, something that’s actually of nutritional value, though she knows that’s something she’ll never get around to. 

She catches sight of Misha walking by, shoulders hunched and looking sad. 

“What’s up?” She sticks her head past her cubicle to ask, anything to distract herself from the pasta dish from soggy hell. Misha’s face at the moment is as though somebody has stolen his kitten. 

“Javi brought a lunchbox to work and he won’t share,” Misha complains, clearly glad to have someone to share his misery. 

Zhenya likes to think that she and Javi are close enough to be considered friends. Maybe not best friends, but they’re definitely on good enough terms that they do hang out. And as far as she knows, the only dish Javi is capable of making is a mean paella. 

The closer she and Misha get to Javi’s cubicle, the stronger the scent of deliciousness gets. Javi’s brows furrow when he spots them. 

“Misha, I told you no,” Javi says. He puts his free arm around his food, as if to protect it from them. Which, fair enough, because Zhenya wouldn’t put herself above snatching the entire thing away. She eyes his neat lunchbox of rice and what must be teriyaki chicken enviously. There’s even a bowl of miso soup and little neat, cut-up wedges of watermelon in its own box. She fights the urge to check her chin for drool, knowing a lost cause when she sees it. 

“Come on, Misha,” she drags Misha away and starts heading back towards her own table, patting Misha’s back in consolation when he whines. The food had clearly been handmade with care, and Zhenya can hardly begrudge Javi for not wanting to share food he’d put effort into making. Still, she thinks of her own sad pasta waiting for her and sighs. 

 

 

Patrick’s had a long Monday and is more than eager to get it done and over with. 

“I need a beer,” he stops by Javi’s desk after his last meeting and says, “Great, you’ve packed up. Let me get my things and we can go.”

Javi startles and looks up from where he’d been smiling at his phone. His desk is neat and he’s clearly ready to leave. 

“Sorry, Patrick, not tonight. I have plans,” Javi tells him apologetically. He gathers up his things and steps around Patrick. 

“See you tomorrow!” He calls over his shoulder, leaving Patrick sputtering in his wake. 

 

 

Javi gets home, kicks off his shoes, drops his bag on the floor, and throws himself onto the sofa. 

“Javi, ouch,” Yuzu mumbles from under him. The textbook Yuzu had been reading is squished between them, its hard spine jabbing into Javi’s chest. Javi pulls it out with a flourish and chucks it non-too-gently onto the coffee table, where it proceeds to slide off and drop onto the floor. Yuzu frowns at him. 

“Sorry,” Javi laughs. He pulls of Yuzu’s glasses and sets those carefully on the table. Then he leans down to kiss Yuzu, sighing happily when Yuzu’s lips part against his. Kissing Yuzu is the best welcome home he can think of. 

He can hardly believe this is his to have now, to be able to come back to Yuzu lounging around on his sofa in his home, to lie down and feel the lines of Yuzu’s body against his, to kiss Yuzu senseless. It’d taken him forever to pluck up the courage to ask for Yuzu’s number, and he’d been overjoyed the first time he’d held Yuzu’s hand and felt Yuzu’s fingers wrap around his. Knowing that his feelings were reciprocated gave him some unfound kind of high and happiness.

Their relationship is still so new and he hasn’t told any of his friends yet, something tentative and precious he wants to keep close to his chest for now, but Javi’s always been an insufferable romantic and he’s already thinking about how he could just have it like this for forever as Yuzu giggles into his mouth and nips at his bottom lip playfully. He’s flushed when Javi pulls away, blush high on his cheeks as Javi leans on his arms and just looks down at him. 

“What,” he pouts and nudges at Javi, playing with the collar of Javi’s shirt, “Something on my face?” His grin is mischievous and Javi leans back down to kiss it off him.

“Thank you for making me lunch,” Javi mumbles as he mouths along Yuzu’s jaw, punctuating with a kiss on his ear lobe. Yuzu’s face, when Javi pulls away and looks at him again, is soft and pleased. 

“Yeah, you like? Is first time I try,” Yuzu tells him, looking extremely satisfied with himself. He tilts his head up so that Javi can kiss the little scar on his chin. 

“Mm, baby, I loved it. You should have seen the guys at work, they were so jealous,” Javi says, making his way down and tugging at Yuzu’s sweater so he can kiss along his collarbones. He rubs his chin against Yuzu’s neck, enjoying the full-bodied shiver the friction incites. Yuzu’s arms wrap around Javi’s shoulders, pulling Javi down so their chests press against each other and Yuzu can pepper his own kisses on Javi’s ear. 

“Maybe you show me how much you loved it,” Yuzu whispers, and now it’s Javi’s turn to shiver, “And I make again for you tomorrow.”

And, well, what can Javi do but obey him.

**Author's Note:**

> Errrr you can find me on twitter at @rlawnsausw? How do these things work.


End file.
